Cherish Hard
Page 53
Busted.
“I told her I was kidnapping you,” Sailor said. “She gave me her number when we went to Hamilton.”
Sailor had given Catie his in turn and told her that if anything ever happened and she couldn’t get ahold of Ísa, she wasn’t to hesitate to call him. He didn’t know if she would, but he’d wanted her to have the option. “She and Harlow will only message or call if it’s an emergency.”
Ísa’s eyebrows drew together over her eyes. “Are you managing me, Sailor Bishop?”
“Yep,” he said without any feelings of guilt whatsoever. “I know you’re pretty much in loco parentis”—had probably been since Catie’s birth—“but parents of teenagers occasionally leave them alone and trust them not to burn down the house.” He pointed at himself. “My mother once left me responsible for Jake and Danny while she and Dad went to watch one of Gabe’s out-of-town games.”
“Did you set your brothers’ hair on fire?” Ísa asked suspiciously.
Sailor gave her an indignant look. “Of course not. I only let them dye their hair peroxide blond. They asked, and I didn’t see a problem with it—I just told them to use the garage sink so they wouldn’t mess up my mom’s nice new bathroom. See? Responsible.”
Lips pressed tightly together, Ísa was clearly struggling not to laugh. “You’re making that up,” she said at last.
“Scout’s honor. I’ve got pictures to prove it.” He’d show them to her when he took her to visit his family. “Catie and Harlow will be fine, spitfire. Neither one of them is an infant.”
Her face fell. “Did they say something? Does Catie feel like I’m smothering her? I know I’m overprotective with her.”
“All Catie said in reply to my request was ‘Cool. I’ll tell Harlow too.’ Oh, and she sent a set of emojis.” Taking out his phone, he showed her the response: Heart eyes, kissy faces, fireworks, a tree, big kissy lips, and a unicorn. “The only one I don’t get is the unicorn. Does she think I’m a unicorn, or is that a sly teenage reference to my mighty horn?”
Ísa snorted out laughing.
Pushing at his chest, she tried to speak but was giggling too hard to create words.
Delighted with her, Sailor pounced and stole a kiss, two. “Admit it, you like my mighty horn.”
“You make Devil Ísa take over my brain” was the response.
Sailor grinned. “Good. Now, let’s make out and scandalize anyone on those yachts who might be watching.”
* * *
ÍSA HAD A QUICK SHOWER after she got home in order to wash off the sunscreen and the salt from their swims. Sailor had driven to his own place after dropping her off in order to do the same. It would’ve been much easier if he had some clothes at her place, but Ísa couldn’t bring herself to make that invitation. If she kept a few walls between them, she told herself, the pain wouldn’t be so bad when it ended.
And knew she was lying.
After drying her hair, then dressing in a simple blue scoop-necked tee and soft gray velour pants that would’ve horrified Jacqueline’s fashion sense but that felt soft and good around her body, she pulled her hair into ponytail.
Her phone rang with a Bollywood dance number seconds later. “Nayna! How was the day?” She knew her friend was taking part in—in Nayna’s words—“a big, fat, OTT Indian wedding” this weekend.
It was scheduled to carry on into the following week since a lot of people were now on Christmas vacation. Ísa knew Nayna had the next three weeks off, her accounting firm having closed for the holidays.
“It’s not even the actual ceremony yet,” her best friend replied, “and already ten thousand aunties have squeezed my cheeks and told me I was a pretty girl and why wasn’t I married?” Nayna muttered. “Youth won’t last forever, Nayna beta. Tut, tut. Then they turn around and compliment me for being a strong career woman.”
“Have you heard from Raj?” Nayna had been suspiciously quiet on that topic over the past few days.
“Yes. But we’re not talking about him today.” The words came out a near-growl.
“Nayna.”
Her best friend cracked like an egg. “I kissed him, okay! I didn’t meant to, but it’s like I see his mouth and my lips become magnetized in his direction.”
Biting back a grin, Ísa said, “I’ve had that problem. I understand.”
“Oh, shut up,” Nayna said with the ease of old friendship before there was a rustling sound down the line. “Thank God. I thought I’d never finish putting on this sari,” she muttered. “Give me a minute to put on the bling—you know too much is never enough for an Indian wedding.” Gentle metallic tinkling sounds as Nayna put on her bangles. “How was the belated birthday celebration with the hot gardener?”
A deep warmth uncurling in her stomach, Ísa said, “Wonderful. He’s wonderful.”
Her own words rang around in her skull after she hung up from her conversation with Nayna. Sailor was wonderful, and he’d been there for her whenever she needed him. Maybe it was time she let go of her fear and went all in.
Cold hands snatched at her gut, chilling the warmth.
She knew Sailor was nothing like her father, but she couldn’t help remembering how Stefán was at the start of his relationships—so accommodating, so generous with his attention. All the women who’d married him thought that was who he was. They didn’t see the workaholic with his eye constantly on the financial markets until he’d put the ring on their finger and no longer had to extend any effort to capture them.
To be ruthlessly fair, Sailor had never done anything to hide his goals from Ísa.
If she went all in with him, she had to do so with the full knowledge that work would eventually eat up more and more of his time. It was inevitable. There’d be no more picnics, no more kayaking, no more time in his life for his “spitfire” except on his own terms.
Ísa couldn’t live that way.
But neither could she let Sailor go. Not before she’d lived every possible moment with him. Not before she’d fought as hard as she could for the dream she wanted to build with him—a family, a life together in the light rather than frantic couplings in the dark to make up for endless days apart.
Buzz.
Jerking at the sound of the door buzzer, she got up to let Sailor in, determined to do everything in her power to bind him to her. Until he wouldn’t ever forget her. Not even if he had a million other things on his plate.
* * *
SAILOR HAD WANTED TO TAKE a bite out of Ísa all night, his possessiveness riding a hard edge. Because even though he was in her home and even though she’d been sassing him all evening, he had the gut feeling that something was off.
Frustration gnawed at him.
His need to claim her, brand her, was more than a little primitive.
And he didn’t care.
When she said, “Do you want dessert?” he pressed his mouth to hers, drank her in, curving his hands over her rear at the same time with blunt possessiveness.
“Yes,” he murmured when they came up for air. “I want dessert. Where’s the bedroom?”
A glint came into her eye. “Did you bring your truck?”
His cock turned to granite, his breath punching out of his chest. “Devil Ísa in charge?”
“I told her I was kidnapping you,” Sailor said. “She gave me her number when we went to Hamilton.”
Sailor had given Catie his in turn and told her that if anything ever happened and she couldn’t get ahold of Ísa, she wasn’t to hesitate to call him. He didn’t know if she would, but he’d wanted her to have the option. “She and Harlow will only message or call if it’s an emergency.”
Ísa’s eyebrows drew together over her eyes. “Are you managing me, Sailor Bishop?”
“Yep,” he said without any feelings of guilt whatsoever. “I know you’re pretty much in loco parentis”—had probably been since Catie’s birth—“but parents of teenagers occasionally leave them alone and trust them not to burn down the house.” He pointed at himself. “My mother once left me responsible for Jake and Danny while she and Dad went to watch one of Gabe’s out-of-town games.”
“Did you set your brothers’ hair on fire?” Ísa asked suspiciously.
Sailor gave her an indignant look. “Of course not. I only let them dye their hair peroxide blond. They asked, and I didn’t see a problem with it—I just told them to use the garage sink so they wouldn’t mess up my mom’s nice new bathroom. See? Responsible.”
Lips pressed tightly together, Ísa was clearly struggling not to laugh. “You’re making that up,” she said at last.
“Scout’s honor. I’ve got pictures to prove it.” He’d show them to her when he took her to visit his family. “Catie and Harlow will be fine, spitfire. Neither one of them is an infant.”
Her face fell. “Did they say something? Does Catie feel like I’m smothering her? I know I’m overprotective with her.”
“All Catie said in reply to my request was ‘Cool. I’ll tell Harlow too.’ Oh, and she sent a set of emojis.” Taking out his phone, he showed her the response: Heart eyes, kissy faces, fireworks, a tree, big kissy lips, and a unicorn. “The only one I don’t get is the unicorn. Does she think I’m a unicorn, or is that a sly teenage reference to my mighty horn?”
Ísa snorted out laughing.
Pushing at his chest, she tried to speak but was giggling too hard to create words.
Delighted with her, Sailor pounced and stole a kiss, two. “Admit it, you like my mighty horn.”
“You make Devil Ísa take over my brain” was the response.
Sailor grinned. “Good. Now, let’s make out and scandalize anyone on those yachts who might be watching.”
* * *
ÍSA HAD A QUICK SHOWER after she got home in order to wash off the sunscreen and the salt from their swims. Sailor had driven to his own place after dropping her off in order to do the same. It would’ve been much easier if he had some clothes at her place, but Ísa couldn’t bring herself to make that invitation. If she kept a few walls between them, she told herself, the pain wouldn’t be so bad when it ended.
And knew she was lying.
After drying her hair, then dressing in a simple blue scoop-necked tee and soft gray velour pants that would’ve horrified Jacqueline’s fashion sense but that felt soft and good around her body, she pulled her hair into ponytail.
Her phone rang with a Bollywood dance number seconds later. “Nayna! How was the day?” She knew her friend was taking part in—in Nayna’s words—“a big, fat, OTT Indian wedding” this weekend.
It was scheduled to carry on into the following week since a lot of people were now on Christmas vacation. Ísa knew Nayna had the next three weeks off, her accounting firm having closed for the holidays.
“It’s not even the actual ceremony yet,” her best friend replied, “and already ten thousand aunties have squeezed my cheeks and told me I was a pretty girl and why wasn’t I married?” Nayna muttered. “Youth won’t last forever, Nayna beta. Tut, tut. Then they turn around and compliment me for being a strong career woman.”
“Have you heard from Raj?” Nayna had been suspiciously quiet on that topic over the past few days.
“Yes. But we’re not talking about him today.” The words came out a near-growl.
“Nayna.”
Her best friend cracked like an egg. “I kissed him, okay! I didn’t meant to, but it’s like I see his mouth and my lips become magnetized in his direction.”
Biting back a grin, Ísa said, “I’ve had that problem. I understand.”
“Oh, shut up,” Nayna said with the ease of old friendship before there was a rustling sound down the line. “Thank God. I thought I’d never finish putting on this sari,” she muttered. “Give me a minute to put on the bling—you know too much is never enough for an Indian wedding.” Gentle metallic tinkling sounds as Nayna put on her bangles. “How was the belated birthday celebration with the hot gardener?”
A deep warmth uncurling in her stomach, Ísa said, “Wonderful. He’s wonderful.”
Her own words rang around in her skull after she hung up from her conversation with Nayna. Sailor was wonderful, and he’d been there for her whenever she needed him. Maybe it was time she let go of her fear and went all in.
Cold hands snatched at her gut, chilling the warmth.
She knew Sailor was nothing like her father, but she couldn’t help remembering how Stefán was at the start of his relationships—so accommodating, so generous with his attention. All the women who’d married him thought that was who he was. They didn’t see the workaholic with his eye constantly on the financial markets until he’d put the ring on their finger and no longer had to extend any effort to capture them.
To be ruthlessly fair, Sailor had never done anything to hide his goals from Ísa.
If she went all in with him, she had to do so with the full knowledge that work would eventually eat up more and more of his time. It was inevitable. There’d be no more picnics, no more kayaking, no more time in his life for his “spitfire” except on his own terms.
Ísa couldn’t live that way.
But neither could she let Sailor go. Not before she’d lived every possible moment with him. Not before she’d fought as hard as she could for the dream she wanted to build with him—a family, a life together in the light rather than frantic couplings in the dark to make up for endless days apart.
Buzz.
Jerking at the sound of the door buzzer, she got up to let Sailor in, determined to do everything in her power to bind him to her. Until he wouldn’t ever forget her. Not even if he had a million other things on his plate.
* * *
SAILOR HAD WANTED TO TAKE a bite out of Ísa all night, his possessiveness riding a hard edge. Because even though he was in her home and even though she’d been sassing him all evening, he had the gut feeling that something was off.
Frustration gnawed at him.
His need to claim her, brand her, was more than a little primitive.
And he didn’t care.
When she said, “Do you want dessert?” he pressed his mouth to hers, drank her in, curving his hands over her rear at the same time with blunt possessiveness.
“Yes,” he murmured when they came up for air. “I want dessert. Where’s the bedroom?”
A glint came into her eye. “Did you bring your truck?”
His cock turned to granite, his breath punching out of his chest. “Devil Ísa in charge?”
